I'm still very interested in this game, and really looking forward to when we can start roleplaying.

Hairy, your house rule's ok by me, as I expect you'll keep it in balance... it makes sense, after all, because guns are a critical part of the wild-west setting. Sure, it'd help my character stat-wise, but I'm more interested in the idea of keeping guns a competent set of weapons when it comes down to going toe-to-toe with a dangerous antagonist.

Panda, I'd hate to see you quit this game before it even gets going, or before we even hear the rest of your character's backstory. I don't fully understand why you'd think it's best for you to go, but if it's personal taste then I can't really blame you for wanting to focus on something that makes you happier. I hope you'll reconsider though.

Love the idea of swinging across a town shooting, or fighting hand to hand across the roof tops as bullets zing past....

Walking down the street in her gown with bustle, parasol out as bullets zing around her....whamping a thug over the head ....corset and leggings as she dances on a table in the midst of a brawl... a quick kick sending someone into next week...

Katie riding hard and flicting the winchester in a cirlce to fire again and againas she rides hard into the town

Daniel in a great leap the sword over his head as he smash down amoug the brawling madness

Also Panda, love the tale of monkey girl but ya should know San fran does not exsist in Deadlands...the entire west coast was blasted into islands by the great earthquake and is now the main scource of ghost rock...van cou might still be there or ya could set the story in new york or chicago

I believe SF wasn't destroyed til the big ritual took place, which would mean it's still viable back story.

But that was only at night. By day the hold of the British merchant ship Lady Fletcher was dark, stinking hot and miserable.

Brandon Whelan had been three weeks in the dark. Twenty one days sharing the fetid, dank air with more of his countrymen than he could count. A lifetime sitting in inch deep water - well, mostly water.

The only blessing so far on this damned journey was that they had avoided plague. Not that the crew would hear it. They kept their “cargo” locked away. Lowering buckets of water and food into the once a day for the migrants to fight over. Never enough food or water. But after the first few days no-one had the energy or will to fight of it. And after a few more, there was enough food for everyone – and the sharks.

They could have fought. Revolted. Mutinied. Brandon’s father would have demanded it. He would have railed against the Captain, roused the three hundred squashed in the dark, and tried to make it right. But his father was dead.

Instead of giving his life to breathe life back into his father’s failed farm, Brandon has taken the easy way out – and the landlords promise of five pounds – and shipped out to the new world. It made him a coward, but that was fine, it wasn’t a fight he could win.

And coward he would have remained, if the man with golden hair hadn’t asked his name on day twenty two.

Brandon Whelan is a Irish lad from County Kerry. His family's farm failed during the potato blight, but they stayed and tried to survive in their homeland as long as they could. Eventually, when all had died of starvation or disease, Brandon fled to the Americas.

During the boat trip he was visited by Lugh mac Ethlenn, Lonnbeimnech, and was inspired to fight against the miserable conditions that the migrants were put under - both on the boat, and in the new world. It was his mission to forge them a place in the world they could call their own. So that the children of the Tuatha de Danann would not be forgotten.

The civil war was in its earliest stages when the Lady Fletcher arrived off Ellis island, and Brandon enlisted immediately. He fought for the north bravely, gaining some small fame for holding a fort through the winter that no-one thought possible.

Now, he has been sent west by Lugh to seek out and stop the of the Titanspawn - never once forgetting that the Irish should always be fighting for themselves.

as the God of the forge, and a crafter of weapons, having the divine hand cannon would certainly be suitable. Optionally you could write it in as Lugh asking Govannon to craft it for one of his sons, and there being a favour to be repaid at some point.

I believe SF wasn't destroyed til the big ritual took place, which would mean it's still viable back story.

This would have been useful to know before I became convinced that I was wasting my time here. Fortunately, HH is more patient than I am and seems to want me to stick around. Plus he can restore my removed backstory posts.

Can I just say how interesting it's going to be to have a Yankee war hero and a Reb bushwhacker teaming up..? Because, even if we're fictionalizig the historical aspects, it's going to give us the opportunity for some rather insightful conflicts... he was an immigrant fighting another country's war in the regions where it was organized, though ugly... she was cross-dressing and fighting the 'dirty war' out west for revenge, where regulation was loose and based more on on territorial rights and personal grudges than political ideology. Both of them would be, in a way, iconic of their sides' cause, but ironically both are precisely the kind of people that the warring powers would have chewed up and spit out as cannon fodder as part of advancing their agenda.

Dang.

So... I'm going to work on a quick-reference profile today with a physical description and scaled-down avatar. I've already sent Hairy the revised sheet for approval, and if everything's ok by you, Hairy, then I'll be ready to roll.

Is there a Deadlands timeline anywhere, do you know? I'm tempted to set it a few years before canon, so as to give us a bit more freedom to play, but I'd need to get an idea of when major events occured.

1866 - February 2 The town of Quarryville, Pennsylvania is attacked by giant groundhogs. The town is attacked every year on this date.

Gives a whole new possibility for a Groundhog Day scenario Trapped doing the same thing day in and day out til you manage to find out what's going on and break the curse

And it looks like the Great Quake in California was 1868.

Looking over the timeline, I think about 1871 or 1872 would be a fairly decent place to set things going. A lot of the major background is in place then, and the other stuff I see could be dropped into the timeline at other points without much disruption.

It should be pointed out that while San Fran is gone, there is a thriving Orential community among the great rifts (or whatever they're called, the crazy post earthquake chasms). That's both on top of the cliffs, and further down.

Birthrights:RELIC 3 - Silver Eye (PURVIEWS: Justice, Psychopomp, Moon) . Hollow, silver ovoid, it fits her eye perfectly, allowing her to close her eye, even to blink, without impediment.RELIC 2- Peacemaker (Damage +2) This heavy revolver is chambered to fire .45 caliber ammunition, and its ebony grip is etched with runes that do not fade. The barrel, guard, and cylinder bears a filligree of entwined women, arrows, and hunting scenes.

Her hair still has streaks of the deep auburn color it was during her childhood, though it darkened to an ebon gloss after her change. She pins it up with simple combs of bone or wood, and crops it occasionally, but it's usually tucked under her flat-brimmed, black hat regardless.

She's slgiht of frame, well proportioned, but not voluptuous. Willowy. Despite her lean composition, her hips flare from a distinctly tapered waist, and she supports a moderate bust. Her arms and legs bear the subtle shadows of fine-tuned muscle.

Her face is striking-- although she's lovely by most standards, she doesn't strike the viewer as an object of exceptional beauty. Rather, she's a combination of menace and innocence.

She bears ivory skin, wide and long-lashed eye that seems to sight down purposefully wherever she gazes. She has a slightly upturned nose and a subtly pouting mouth that seems to constantly be straining as if t oconstrain a deeply hidden sorrow. Despite the punishing sun she seems not to burn or tan beyond a slightly golden hue of health.

Beneath her eyepatch, the lid and empty socket bear the white, faded lines of scar where she was shot in the temple as a girl, the bullet's refracted trajectory having ruined her eye on its exit path. The silver eye she wears in its place, however, is so perfectly natural looking that it's like part of her, though its untarnishing surface might be either surreally beautiful or unsettling to look upon... this, of course, depends on the observer's conscience-- or lack thereof.

Advantages:Birthrights: (5)Relic 2- “Spectacles of the Sun and the Moon” [preview Sun and Moon]: A round mirrored-lenses set of spectacles often worn low on her nose. Relic 1- “Pharaoh’s gift” [preview Animal (cat)]: Intricate gold ring with green cat’s eyes. Relic 1- “Sands of the Desert” [preview Prophecy]: An 8” tall hourglass of the finest wood and crystal. When turned the sands pour and pull the viewer into the depths of prophecy. The falling sands will always last as long as needed. Sometimes finishing quickly with its images and others dragging on for hours. The viewer is fully engrossed at the time. Relic 2- Father’s Derringer: A double barreled .45cal colt derringer. Made of refined and forged ghost rock giving it a deep blue black color and engraved in gold [hieroglyphs]. Ivory grip with a cat motif. Her father’s prized derringer given to him by her mother.Unlimited ammo [cocking back the hammer reloads it] and range of a standard colt revolver.Creature 1/Guide 2- “Pharaoh”: A male Egyptian Mau cat

Alex is 21, blonde haired, blue eyed, with full breasts, and curves in all the right places [appearance 4]. She moves with a feline grace and at times seem to be looking through a person [awareness 5].Alex perfer the finer things, silks, soft cottens, fine wine, choice food. Do not think that she is soft, she can rough it as needed and is very tough. The smokey lensed shades she seems to be always wearing hide her blue eyes. The grey spotted cat that always seems to be under foot also seems able to get his point across to Alex.Standing 5'4' in her heeled boots Alex draws eyes to her. Men and women.She relaxes by playing high stakes poker, normally winning. Yet much of her winnings are channeled to help people and keep harmony.

Pharoah...his royalness...Lordship and general pain...is a wise and wonderful guide from bastet. A normal egyptian Mou, yet it always seems to have a view piont on something around ... and expects his due...honeyed milk and salted sadines...but not just any sardines ..ask him to fine out those her perfers